Our old world
by AsianCutie93
Summary: AU Written by Kang Jae Gyu and myself. This is the story of Lovino and Feliciano's lives as the adopted sons of Antonio and Roderich. There are multiple pairings. Rating will go up.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first multiple chapters fanfic! I am very excited. My story should now actually be understandable now that I had an awesome editor (Kang Jae Gyu) to help me!**

**This story has Spain/Lovino, Prussia/Austria, Feliks/Elizaveta, Germany/Feliciano, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein (Human name is Lily in this story)**

Chapter 1

My name is Lovino Fernandez Cerriado, and my husband's name is Antonio. I have a younger brother named Feliciano, who recently got married to Ludwig Beilschmidt. In my story, Ludwig may sometimes be called 'darn German bastard', but I guess that's just my affectionate nickname for him. Right now, I don't think our lives can get any better; if someone were to ask me why, it is because of our family. Not our biological family, but the one who adopted us and loved us even though we weren't one of their own. I would never admit that to them, of course; it is just not in my character - my nature, really - to allow my emotions to outpour so freely as my brother can, but I digress. It would not be honest for me to say that life has always been happy. No, our family has much pain rooted in its foundations, and yet we would all go through it again if it led to the happiness and content we have now.

This all really started when my brother was born. Those days with my biological family were still pleasant. I was only two at the time, but I can still recall an uncanny amount of detail. It was March 17th, 1985, and there was a slight frost in the air. My mother made me breakfast and fed me before the first painful contractions hit her. Mother was rushed to the hospital around 9am, my grandfather having previously packed her some pajamas and other essentials into a black duffle bag. She and my father left soon after I was done with my morning meal and ready to play with Grandpa. My grandfather, the only family member that was always nice to me and later my brother as well, put me into a light weight red sweater and let me play with my wooden train set in the living room. He helped with making the track more interesting, crisscrossing it, and making fun loops to amuse me. I didn't really know it at the time, but he was a very intelligent man.

The apartment's small size seemed cozy then. There were only two bedrooms, one for Mama and Papa, the other for my grandfather and me, but later on became Feliciano's room as well. The living room held two couches, both dark brown, that stood out in the beige walls of the place. My grandfather, even though quite strong and playful, had a permanent spot on the couch that was his, to the point he left an indent. Before my brother was born, we had just gotten a television for the parlor and Grandpa was strangely fascinated by it. Because we were supposedly a loving, bonding Italian family, it was encouraged that we didn't watch television except for news reports. Even when things got really bad, only adults were allowed to touch the television and its remote.

It's not that I blame my brother for the changes in our family. I love him very much, almost as much as I love my dear husband, but that was the last day when things with our old family were truly happy. I felt so sorry that he didn't get the chance to have happy memories with mother and father like I did, but then maybe it was a good thing. He didn't have any contradicting experiences that confused him about the situation we were dealt.

It was nine hours before the phone rang. I was now running around with only my underwear and a blanket as a cape, making "whoosh!" sound effects with my mouth, pretending I was flying about in the house. My grandfather chuckled before answering the phone. He talked for a couple of minutes, I can't remember what about, probably my antics and how I was doing. Once he hung up the phone, he swooped me into the air. "Hey super hero, that was Mama. You have a new baby brother! We have to get dressed," he said, and proceeded to dress me in proper attire. All my grandfather had to do was put on his grey scarf that matched mine and we were out the door. My father took the only car, so we walked to the hospital.

Our journey wasn't long. At least, it didn't feel that way to me because I was amusing myself with walking on the grass, liking the crunching noises it made because of the frost. My grandfather was smiling the whole time at me. When we got to mother's room, she was holding my little brother.

I stared at him intensely before asking: "is he going to get any bigger?"

Everyone laughed at my childish question before my mother said: "of course, Lovino. After all, you were small like this too when you were born."

"Oh." I couldn't remember, so I just quietly sat in the little space next to my mom on the hospital bed. Feliciano had lighter hair than me. He had mother's soft, almost silky hair. He would move his arms a little every now and then, and when he sneezed I winced. My brother looked so fragile and angelic, and I didn't want to hurt him, but my mother gently grabbed my hand and made me hold it out to Feliciano. Maybe it was just coincidence, but at that moment Feliciano grabbed my index finger with his tiny right hand. Sparks shot through my body. I didn't know at the time, but that was the first time I loved someone. My grin almost touched my ears, everyone else smiling at how happy I was. I had that same grin all day. Even when it was only me, Mama, and Feliciano late at night in the hospital. I snuck out of bed from my mother's side, and went to his crib. I slipped my arm between the white bars, and held my hand out to him. Maybe it was coincidence once more, but he rolled in his sleep and gripped my index finger with that same right hand.

Tears rolled down my face. I didn't know why at the time, and truthfully, I still don't know now. At that moment, I was really happy.

The madness in our house wasn't sudden. It was just that my mother was more irritable at my father. She would nitpick at the way he did chores around the house, his cooking, and how careless he was when playing with me and my brother. My father wasn't bothered by it at first; he just figured it was her hormones still out of it from having Feliciano. She then started to say other things: things about my father's success career wise, his personality, his friends, things that made my father very angry. He would yell back just as harshly. I couldn't really make it out because of the sheer volume of his voice, but it must have been horrible to make my mother cry. Before then, my mother never cried. My grandfather at first was outraged by their behavior, but my father inherited my grandfather's strong frame, and he punched the old man in the gut. My mother cried out and helped him up, but my grandfather didn't seem too injured. He just stood up, sat on his place on the couch, and watched television. Mom and Dad's arguments were getting worse. My mother would slap him in the face, bring other men into the house, and leave for lengthy periods of time.

Feliciano, as I expected, had many features that mother carried. He was beautiful, but it made Father angry. The man would force Feliciano - at three years old - to do all of the chores other than cooking when Mother was away and would beat me or my grandpa if we tried to help the young three year old at all. There was one time when Feliciano was doing the laundry in the month of May. Mother had been gone for three days and would probably return in another nine, and I helped carry the loads with him and back. When Papa found out, he would kick me in the chest and stomach repeatedly at the age of five, saying that people who were like Mama didn't deserve help. Grandpa suffered as well when he helped sweep the kitchen floors, but instead of kicks to the chest and stomach, he had burns on his arms. Everything was put on such a small kid, but Feli had mother's old optimism and did them as if they were nothing.

At night, when we would sleep in our shared bed, I would hug him very tight. I would kiss his face over and over, telling him how proud I was of him, and that any teasing I did, I did because he was so adorable. He would always smile back at me. "I know, big brother. I love you," was his response. Those were the only good moments that I could look forward to every day, when he would tell me he understands and loves me. He would hug me tight until our legs were a tangled mess that meshed together. I didn't know that my grandfather watched and was happy that we still could love even with the house the way it was; I only found this out after reading his old journal when I visited our former apartment many years later.

It was around August, I was still five years old and Feli was still three, when my mother and father were slowly reverting back to their old selves, and Feliciano was much more content around the house. Mama wasn't going out anymore for several days, she was the one doing chores, and she and Papa would even smile at each other and go out on dates together.

We thought those lovey-dovey dates would restring the severed ties of our family. How horribly wrong we were.

At 9pm on _that night_ my parents had still not yet returned from their date. My brother and I, meanwhile, were playing in the living room. Grandpa just watched us; he was very tired from cleaning the kitchen that day so my parents could have fun. He didn't seem to mind, though; he was probably even happier than we were that our parents were getting along again. He had a glass of his favorite red wine, sipping slowly as I kept tackling Feli into the ground. My little brother kept squirming, trying to find any opportunity to slip from my grasp and pin me down.

_Ring! Ring!_

I was so distracted that Feliciano did find the opportunity, and now was on top of me. I gave a small "sh!" so that Grandfather could have silence while on the phone. Feli didn't mind as long as he was on top of me now.

"Hello? Yes, this is Angelo Vargas... what? No, that's impossible..." he gasped. Feli and I looked at each other, confusion evident in both our eyes. Grandfather was never upset that easily.

"Yes... there is a possibility it isn't them... yes, I will see you downstairs in 10 minutes then," he ended the call and reluctantly hung up the phone. He glanced at us, only to charge into his room and fish out an old photo of my father and mother. It was a picture before Feliciano and I were born, both flashing a long scar on their left arms. I never knew what happened to them for them to get such a scar, but it was one of the ways that Grandpa could quickly identify them. When he noticed the two of us staring at him, he paused, took a deep breathe, and kneeled down so he was around our level.

"I need to go see if Mama and Papa are at the police station. Lovino, I trust you with this house while I am gone. Do not open the door for anyone. I have a key." He pulled it out of his pocket to show us. "I'm sorry about this, boys." He gave us a kiss on the forehead before he left. He locked the door, the house becoming very quiet once he was gone. Feli and I decided to sit on the couch nearest the window, but saw that there was a police car waiting for my grandfather. He went inside, and they drove off.

"What is going on, Lovi? Is Grandpa in trouble?"

"I don't think so. He didn't have handcuffs on him. Maybe Mom and Dad are in trouble. After all, they're supposedly the ones at the police station." I didn't know how true my statement was.

"Are they fighting again?"

"Could be, Feli."

The mistakes that led to my parents' death was this: around 8:30pm, after eating dinner, my parents decided to go to the theatre. They both consumed a great amount of wine, but they were used to driving in such a state. My father before my mother came back used to drink vodka, gin, rum, and drive endlessly when my brother and I were asleep. Mother... well, as my grandfather described it in his journal, she had "wine for blood those days". My father seemed to have a foot as heavy as lead that night, and crashed into a brick wall at 95 miles per hour. All the trauma went to their necks; my mother's, sadly, did not stay attached and flung out of the windshield and splattered. I only saw photos that the police took of the scene when I was eighteen but I never knew about the grotesque detail of my mother's decapitation until my grandfather's journal divulged it to me. According to the entry, that night the police picked him up to identify their bodies because of that.

Life with Grandfather was much more peaceful. After I went to kindergarten class, he would take me and Feli to the park to play. Feliciano always liked the swing set, and I always liked to push him. I felt like a hero when Feli would smile from my pushes, and my energy for pushing him never ceased. It was only until my grandfather told us we had to go home to eat dinner did the two of us feel the fatigue from our activities. Even so, it was hard to separate Feli from the swing to eat dinner. The swing set is probably one of Feliciano's only happy childhood memories, though dinner with Grandpa was also a good childhood memory. We really liked dinner, for dinners were what my grandfather knew best. We always either ate pasta, pizza, biscottis, and bread. Personally I didn't care for pasta and pizza with lots of cheese, so I just pulled it off and put it on Feli's plate so that he was happy. He seemed to like cheese, but I just never had a pallate for it. We would also have milk or juice with our meal, while Grandpa had wine. However, he didn't seem to enjoy wine as much as he did before, but I guess it's understandable; losing your only son and daughter-in-law due to the very same beverage after they had just started to get along again would put a bad taste in anyone's mouth. As the year progressed, he stopped drinking any alcohol and just either played with us or sat on the couch watching television.

There wasn't any apparent medical reason for my grandfather's death a week before my birthday, on February 9th, but when Feli looked at his dead body, he said that "his heart is really torn."

We didn't go to St. Anne's Orphanage until I was six years old; paperwork from the police and other services takes that long, I guess. It wasn't a bad place, but it just wasn't a home. The walls were light blue, almost as pale as the sky. There were a few cracks here or there, and the nuns would ask the teenagers still in St. Anne's to help patch them up and paint over them. The floors were cold all the time, and the wood on them would squeek with almost every step; it probably helped for when children tried to sneak out during play time or school time.

Play time was actually kind of fun. There were multiple playrooms depending what age you were, but Feli got to stay by my side because I was his older brother. Sure, the first couple of days other children tried to pick on him, but because I learned some bad words living with my father they got scared away by my harsh language. In truth, if they continued to attack Feli, I don't know if I'd be able to fight back.

School time, on the other hand, was quite boring. Feli was put into nap time during then while I had to attend lessons as to not get too far behind normal kids in school. School time was also separated, but by knowledge level rather than age. Since I went to regular public school, even though it was just kindergarten, I was with kids at least two years older than me.

The orphanage actually fed us all very well. It wasn't a hell hole as many kids tried to make it out to be. At 7am to 10am, breakfast was served. It was hard for Feli to adjust to eating American food, but he grew to like the omelets with tomatos and cheese in them, and just as I used to do with my pizza and pasta I pulled my cheese out and gave it to him so he would be happy. Bread there wasn't like my grandfather's fresh, barely out of the oven kind. That was the worst part. The bread were stale, and occasionally had green speckles on them that were probably mold or fungus. I made sure to inspect Feliciano's bread before letting him eat it. Bread there was the only thing that really made me miss home. Then lunch would arrive; it was usually soup of some kind with crackers. Most of the time the soup was just some chicken and rice, but Feli seemed to like it. He didn't really seem to care how food tasted as long as it wasn't burnt. During dinner, there was a choice between soup or some meat and potatos. I would always choose soup, because I didn't really care for the mashed potatos.

At night, when we went to sleep, we still shared a bed to give space for other children... at least, that was the excuse I gave to the nuns because Feli wanted to sleep beside me. I don't blame him; after all, living in an abusive house and now in an orphanage, you want to be as close as you possibly can to someone you _know_ loves you. I was glad that I could make him at peace so easily. He would always fall asleep first while I stayed up, stroking his hair, careful to not touch the out of place curl so that he didn't wake up. I had also inherited that curl; it was from our grandfather. I somewhat doubted that Feli would wake up if I accidentally brushed it, but I was careful nonetheless. Some days he would be so tired from the days in the orphanage that he chose to sleep during meals. He was a deep sleeper, too; nothing woke him up except when I pounced on him in the morning or a yanked really hard at his curl.

There was a nun who always came to all the rooms to make sure that everyone was asleep. Her name was Sister Sophia. Her footsteps barely made a sound, even on the oldest and loudest of floors, probably because she's so petite. As best as she tried, her long, curly light brown hair always found its way to peak out of her hood. She was very nice to me and my brother. It was probably refreshing for her to see siblings our age get along so well. She would always be the one to tap me on the shoulder as I carressed my brother, saying "you need your rest too, Lovino." With a compliant nod I would finally go to sleep.

Without a doubt, it was much more peaceful in St. Anne's than at home.

Except I didn't like the fact that Feli had to celebrate his birthday there. Birthdays weren't really celebrated, for the nuns didn't have enough money to buy cakes and decorate the place. Also, there was another reason why birthdays weren't celebrated: they meant that it was going to be harder for that child to be adopted. As age increased, appeal went down just as fast in the eyes of prospective parents. Despite all that, I wanted to do something nice for my brother. I wanted to fulfill his birthday wish, but I was hesitant. He wanted to go out into the park where Grandpa would always take us before we went to live at St. Anne's, but I told him that we couldn't. He kept crying about it, his big eyes with tears in the corners jabbing my heart with a dagger of guilt. Not until around lunch time while eating chicken soup and, for a change, that disgusting bread did I whisper to him: "alright, but it has to be when everyone's asleep and Sister Sophia has already inspected our room."

He grinned and pounced on me. "Yay! Thank you Lovi!"

"Yeah, yeah, don't get too happy. That means you get less sleep tonight because Sister Sophia doesn't come until 11pm."

Feliciano gasped. "How do you know? You actually stay up that late?"

"Yes, actually, I don't sleep very well-"

"What do you think of that late at night?"

I didn't really think when I carressed my brother to sleep, so I just made something up. "Squirrels."

Feli giggled until he could barely get any air into his little body. I slapped him on the back, muttering a "finish your food" before going back to eating.

That night I let Feli sleep from 8:20pm till Sister Sophia came. She told me as she always did every night to rest, and I closed my eyes. As soon as she closed the door, I got up and kissed Feliciano on the forehead. He stirred slightly, but I knew that he didn't like to get up from bed. Since I wanted to wake him up as quickly as possible, I gave an experimental yank at his hair curl. To my delight he woke up instantaneously.

"Come on Feli, wait for me outside on the fire escape. I'll go get our coats," I said softly. He wobbled toward the windows that opened up to the maze of ladders on the side of the building as I fetched our coats. His was a light blue with dark blue trim, while mine was tan with black trim. Donning our jackets, we bravely set foot out into the night.

We had only been at St. Anne's Orphanage for a month, so Feliciano and I still remembered our way to the park. The dark night was lit by the street lamps, and the only noise other than our breathing was the passing of a car every couple of minutes. There were no footsteps other than our own. It was strange what time did to a city, even New York. We crossed two streets, and followed a bike trail that was a short cut to the park. The trail had tall hedges on either side, with red rum honeysuckle flowers. Feliciano loved to touch the beautiful flowers and finger their soft petals. Although it was a great place during the day, both Feliciano and I agreed that it was pretty creepy during the twilight hours. Even so, we were kids, and we didn't know about New York's harsh night life; we weren't worried about being kidnapped or getting hurt in any way.

Our ghostly breath obscured our vision slightly, but as soon as we saw the park, Feli ran to the swings just as he had always done. I ran right behind him, laughing at his glee from seeing the metal playground. That night was so beautiful; the only light source was from the street lamp on the sidewalk near the playground and the only sounds were my little brother's laughter and the squeeking of the swing rocking back and forth. He kept yelling for me to push harder, and I kept at it, just as we did before the orphanage. I would do anything for him to be happy. I didn't know what time it was before we left, but by the time we snuck back into St. Anne's it was four in the morning. Feli didn't care, even when he woke up extremely tired. He hugged me that morning, saying that was the best birthday he ever had.

It was June of that same year when our adopted parents came. As sad and disgusting as this sounds, my new father would eventually become my husband. His friend Roderich and Roderich's wife (at the time) Elizaveta, adopted Feliciano. At first, both Feli and I protested, Feli crying because he wanted to sleep beside me and I crying because I didn't want to be separated from him. However, Sister Sophia hugged us both, saying it was going to be okay and that we would probably see each other all the time because Antonio and Roderich were neighbors. I was extremely relieved, while Feli still had some tears running down his face throughout the day because he didn't like the thought of sleeping alone. I embraced him, telling him it was going to be okay. Feli's crying always caused me pain.

Antonio thought I was adorable because of the way I treated my brother, and for some reason I just didn't like him at first. Perhaps it was the content in his bright green eyes, or the luster of his olive skin, or perhaps his bright smile. Either way, I didn't like him. In fact, when he opened the door to his black Mercedes Benz for me, I kicked him in the shins before getting in. He yelped in pain but then just laugh it off, probably thinking it was kind of cute. It was odd that I disliked someone who had a personality similar to Feliciano's, but I did. He didn't seem to care as he hopped into the driver's seat and sped off. He drove wildly. He sped down roads at 90 miles per hour, revved his engine, and took sharp turns. I didn't really know what to expect. I held onto my seat belt for dear life, screaming all the way there. It wasn't until we stopped in front of this white marble entrance of a building did the madness stop. I stopped to catch my breath while Antonio got out of his seat and helped me out of the car. I stepped out carefully, still slightly scared.

Antonio owned a condominium on the upscale side of New York. It was odd that someone as rich as him would want to adopt me, but I guess I had just won the lottery when it came to parents. Door men would greet him, adressing him formally and opening doors graciously for him and would park his expensive car into the exclusive garage. It was such as strange world for a little boy who lived in a small apartment and shared a room with his grandfather. The lobby of the building had columns that were similar to Rome. The walls were white like the columns, only having paintings and sculptures of local artists decorating them. The walls seemed over a mile long then, leading to a ceiling with a golden chandelier. The couches were a chocolate brown leather that gathered in the area near the fireplace. There was a table there too, with a variety of desserts that were restocked every hour or so. The fire place was made of dark marble, with golden flecks in its coloring, which matched the golden colored mantle. What was most interesting to me was the floor; the white marble on the floors had a tint of blue in it, the same blue that Feli's coat was, and the tint of blue became darker until it let to the black marble fountain. Feliciano and his new parents, the Edelsteins, were waiting for us, him vigorously waving his hand. My little brother ran up to me, almost tackling me to the ground saying: "I missed you!"

I smiled and held him. "How can you miss me in 20 minutes?"

He stared up at me. "... I don't know, but I did!" he exclaimed, and hugged harder. I laughed and kissed the top of his head. Antonio and Elizaveta gushed at our display of affection, while Roderich just smiled and adjusted his glasses. Even later in life, Mr. Edelstein was never really an emotional person. His personality and appearance perfectly matched. Roderich was what everyone pictured when they thought of a calm, intelligent gentleman.

Antonio, with his sparkling emeralds for eyes, kept staring at us. Roderich clapped him on the back, something about being such a pedophile. We kept hugging until Elizaveta reminded us that we still needed to get settled, go shop for new clothes, and most importantly, eat. Coincidentally, both our stomachs growled a low groan when Mrs. Edelstein mentioned that and she giggled.

When I met Elizaveta, I thought she was a very beautiful woman. Her eyes were green, but not as bright as Antonio's. Instead they were a rather dark green with flecks of yellow in the right light. Her hair was a light brown color and it was thick, long, and shiny. She was a slim woman, but she still had an hourglass figure. Her legs, which were covered from the knee up, looked long and lean. Her face was that of a woman who could still pass for a teenager, and her skin was soft and creamy to the touch. With this image firmly planted in my mind from the get-go (and despite the stories I would hear later on) I would never truly believe that she used to be a tomboy and the bully Roderich once feared. She was just too pretty to think that way of her.

She held Feli's hand, while I held his other hand.

"Come on, we've got to get you new clothes," she repeated gently.

"Huh? Why do we need new clothes?" Feliciano was truly confused at that.

"So that you look nice for our friends for dinner tonight," she said. With a soft "oh" from both of us, everyone hopped into Roderich's limousine. It was just a classic black one, with silver handles and trims. Feli's and my own eyes bulged at the sight of the vehicle; clearly, we still didn't understand just how rich these people were. The inside had brown leather, almost the same color as Antonio's hair, with a black carpet. On the black carpet, there was a white circle with a crest inside. It was a black hawk, with a golden crown that also looked similar to a castle. The bird had broken, silver chains attached to it's feet while the talons on its feet held a gold scythe and gold hammer. I kept staring at it in curiousity to the point that Roderich cleared his throat to get my attention. "That is the Austrian coat of arms, Lovino," he informed me. "My family is Austrian."

I nodded, going back to looking at it. The bird looked as if it wanted revenge, and it was almost frightening. Antonio wrapped his right arm around my shoulders, telling me that Spain was much cooler than Austria. I just snorted at his remark, making him pout.

"Eh, why are you not cute as soon as I talk to you? You're cute when you're hanging out with your brother. Do you hate me-"

"You're annoying, shut up," I interrupted. Antonio sighed.

"No wonder I don't have a wife; kid barely knows me for half an hour and already hates me!"

"Well, you aren't exactly who I would picture when I think of good parental material," Mr. Edelstein jokingly remarked to his friend. Because he held his emotions so well, it almost seemed serious at that time.

"_Roderich_," his wife chuckled. It was apparently normal for everyone to tease Antonio... we were just not familiar with it yet.

After quickly getting some pizza, we went shopping with Elizaveta holding our hands while Antonio and Roderich followed. We walked mostly into expensive boutiques with strange names such as "Prince Charmings" and "The Unusual" where both of us got two suits, several dress shirts and ties, a couple of pants, some jackets and coats, and a variety of shoes. Even though Elizaveta was the one picking outfits, it was Roderich or Antonio that decided what we, their new sons, were getting. Feliciano's favorite part of shopping was that he got another coat that was light blue, similar to the one he had now. I never knew until I got another look at it that I had accidentally made a hole in it on his birthday at the park. He never told me. I would have apologized if I knew, but I guess it didn't really matter to him.

Because we were small children, we soon tired from shopping and whined about going home. Elizaveta finally agreed, saying that the shopping could continue at another time.

We rode the elevator up to their condominiums. Feliciano and I held hands on the way up inside the elevator; apparently Feli didn't enjoy the sensation of ascending upward. How unfortunate that we lived on the fifteenth floor, but he would eventually get used to it. Antonio tapped my shoulder and held his hand out to me. Even though I didn't really like him still, I took his hand for some reason. Something unexpected happened then. It was then that I felt that same electricity flowing through my body that I felt when I first held Feliciano's hand. I stared intensely at Antonio, who stared back with a soft smile. Maybe he felt it, too.

That was the second time in my life I loved someone.

I quickly turned my head to Feli, who had a big grin on his face. He figured it out faster than I did, but he was always better with emotions so it was no big surprise. I snorted, knowing he was laughing on the inside at me. When the elevator finally stopped, we walked down the hall to our left a couple of steps and were in front of their condos. Antonio's condo was 1523, while Roderich's was right across from him and it was number 1525.

Antonio's place had an earthly color scheme, with lots of tans, browns, reds, and greens everywhere. The plush carpet that I felt after I removed my shoes was a light tan, almost beige color. It covered most of the floor of the living room, the living room itself being so large that the old apartment could fit in there. Red velvet couches were placed near large windows that allowed a beautiful view of the city. I ran to one of the windows, almost pressing my face against the glass, staring out onto the city below. It must have looked silly to see a child running toward the window just to look at the view of the bad parts of the city, but I couldn't help it. Even though I couldn't see any of the places I was familiar with, I was amused by the sounds of the cars and the lights of the city. Returning my attention to the apartment's interior, I noticed a gas fireplace with a large television right next to it. I didn't really care for television because of my biological parents' rules about it, so I ran to the kitchen which was beyond the fireplace. There was no longer plush carpet; there was dark, cherry wood on the floors of the kitchen. I shivered slightly at the cold touch of the wood, but ventured onward. Unlike the wood in the orphanage, it didn't creak or make any noise when it was stepped on. The dark granite counter tops had specks of gold, bronze, and brown mixed into the black sheen. There were black appliances as well, and all the cabinets were dark cherry wood just like the floor. Even though it was a dark room, it felt warm. Suddenly Antonio swooped me into the air, saying that we should get dressed for dinner at Roderich's place.

He carried me to my room and I gasped. I immediately wiggled out of his grasp and ran to the bed to jump up and down on it. At _long last_ I had my own room, and I couldn't contain my excitement. It was mostly dark green, with some brown and black mixed it. Antonio joined me eventually, jumping up and down before finally catching me in midair and jumping off the bed with me in his arms. Those same sparks flew through my body, and I almost froze in his arms. He took my frozen posture as something else though.

"Oh, are you amazed by my muscles? Yeah, I used to be a famous bullfighter," he bragged.

I was astonished. "Really? That's so cool! Did you have a red cape and everything?"

"I sure did." He handed me my tan suit, a black dress shirt with a large collar, and black dress socks. "But you have to get dressed first before I tell you any stories or show any photos!" He then quickly left so we both could get dressed in private. I huffed before putting on my clothes. I came out to see my new father and future husband in similar attire, except his suit was dark brown. He had a photo album under his arm, and motioned for me to come to him. We sat on one of the red velvet couches, and he opened the album on our laps. There were pictures of him within, slightly younger, in many flashy bullfighter outfits. There was even one where he was shirtless, the red cape draped on his shoulders, dripping with sweat from his temples to his abdominals, and his lips parted. His eyes were even more intense in that picture and his cheeks were flushed from the adrenaline. Even though I was little and didn't get sexually stimulated, I still couldn't remove my eyes from that one photo. Of course, my new father took it as something else completely. It seemed to be a habit of his, speaking and assuming before analyzing.

"Yeah, I look awesome in that picture! Aw, I still remember that day. This was a tough bull, he actually killed someone before I went into the ring with him! They said that no one could control that bull and tried to push me away, but I went anyways. He was a great rival, but in the end I was able to ride him and make him a fool. Unfortunately, because he killed someone, he had to be killed and eaten later that day."

"Why was he killed?"

"... It's just a part of Spanish tradition. Once a bull has lost or been beaten in a certain amount of fights he is slaughtered and given to people as food, but that one was killed because he had killed someone."

"Oh... that's so sad, though," I lamented, but the Spanish man only laughed at how sad I sounded. He embraced me, another shock running through my body.

"You are so cute, _hijo_! To get so sad over an animal... I knew you were the perfect kid!" he gushed, and held me even tighter. I couldn't say anything, I just blushed under his touch. Those same arms that defended him against a bull were hugging me so tenderly. He kept holding me, and finally I wrapped my arms as best as I could around his torso. He smiled against my forehead, kissing me on the top of my head. I flinched. I wasn't yet used to receiving affection from this new man. He saw how stiff I was and he pulled away.

"I'm sorry, _hijo_, this still is such a shock to you, but I promise you that I am going to love you, and I will never do anything to hurt you."

I smiled at him. Even if he didn't act like the conventional parent, he was still a really nice guy.

"So why aren't you a bullfighter anymore?" I tried to change the subject, not wanting to expose how awkward this situation was.

"Oh, well, I used the money from my fame as a bullfighter to go to college. I went to business school and now I own a music producing business. I'm the one who finds new artists and makes them famous," he said.

"I think being a bullfighter sounds cooler."

"Hahaha, yes, they were fun days, but my family was extremely poor. I wanted our lives to be better, so I got an education in America. Well, you can see the result. Come on, lets go to the Edelsteins' place."

Antonio grabbed my hand, and led me to the Edelsteins' condo. It had the elegance of the lobby downstairs, but the feel of home. Their walls were pure white, with dark blue trim around the windows and borders of the walls. Their paintings were mostly portraits of either Roderich, Elizaveta, or both of them together. The few paintings that weren't of the Edelsteins were landscapes that were unfamiliar to me. They were probably from Roderich's homeland of Austria. The couches were also white, with gold color arms on them. The decorative pillows that were placed on the couch were also gold, while the cushions of the couch were white in contrast. It was so different from the dark colors of Antonio's room. Even the floors were white marble with specks of gold, silver, and black in them. Instead of a television near their gas fireplace, they had a grand piano. It's patent black shine made it stand out in the bright room. There were more light colors to be seen in the kitchen; their custom cabinets (made to make as much storage space as possible) were also white. Even their countertop, which was made of the same material Antonio's was made of, was beige. The only thing that was dark in their kitchen was the floor, which was a dark cherry very similar to Antonio's. The floor of the kitchen looked nice because, like the piano, it stood out from the light colors. Their living room was slightly smaller than Antonio's because they made space for a dining room.

The table was another dark item that stood out of the light colors. It had a bright shine that the piano had, and was enormous at fifteen feet long. The chairs that surrounded the large table had a similar design to the couches in the living room, except the legs of the chair were gold just like the arms. The plates were again white, with blue embroidary along the border. Knifes, forks, and spoons were also laid out; they were, of course, made of actual silver. Roderich sat at the end of the table while Antonio took the chair to the right of Roderich. I sat next to Antonio and tugged softly at the sleeve of his suit jacket.

"What is it, Lovino?"

"Where is Feliciano?" I asked Antonio.

"I'm here, brother!" I felt two small arms wrap around me from behind. I smiled, grabbing his right wrist and kissing his palm. He wore a grey suit, with a dark blue dress shirt underneath. Unlike myself, he didn't button up his suit jacket, but I think he looked better that way. Feli always looked... cute, as Antonio would describe it.

"I can see that now, Feli. How are you?"

"Well, I explored and saw my room. It was _awesome_, but I still don't know if I'll sleep well without you there."

I turned so that I was facing him and hugged him. "You have to get used to it some day, Feli."

He sighed. He knew I was telling the truth, but he just buried his face into my shoulder.

"Neh," he whined.

The door bell rang and we separated to take our seats. Feli sat in the seat on my right, wiggling his legs to pass the time waiting for food. Elizaveta briskly walked to the entrance of the house to open the door. Two blonde strangers, a man and a woman, walked in. They both had shoulder length hair, but their clothes made their genders obvious.

Vash Zwingli, the man, didn't have a smile. His eyes were green, just like Antonio and Elizaveta's. He didn't dress in a neutral colored suit, but rather a dark green one. The buttoning of his suit jacket was in a double breast design, which didn't allow whatever shirt he had to be visible. If it were any other person, I would make a joke about that, but this is Vash. It was fitting of his personality though, for even though I was young, I could tell he was a quiet and conservative person. Vash wasn't as tall as Antonio or Roderich, but had muscle definition. I never did ask him if he was or used to be a soldier, but I always thought he had. In actuality, he worked most of his life as an owner of a small but successful bank. Lily Zwingli, the woman, was his wife. She was quite young looking, but she seemed like a good match for Vash. Mrs. Zwingli was also conservative, but she expressed her emotions and her thoughts much more openly than her husband, albeit still in an appropriate manner. She wore a blush pink dress, with a peterpan collar. The white lace close to her neck showed off how light and delicate her skin looked. The dress was form fitting in the bodice and the skirt flared out in a bell shape to the knee. It wasn't too sexy because she wasn't as curvy as Elizaveta, but she still looked beautiful. It was hard to believe that she was wearing white stockings, because her skin was just as pale. She had black pumps on her small feet, with one strap that wrapped around her ankle.

The Zwinglis took the seats across from us, saving a seat next to Roderich for Elizaveta. Lily smiled at us. "You must be our new sons."

Feli looked confused. "No, I'm the Edelsteins' new son, and my big brother is Mr. Cerriado's son," he pointed out.

Roderich smiled at his new son. "Not with us, Feliciano. Here, everyone is a parent to you."

"Then I have..." he paused to count all the adults, including the absent Elizaveta. "Five parents! That's cool!"

"Feli, don't be so loud," I chided. Elizaveta came in, balancing two plates in each arm before Roderich immediately got up and took two from her. Mr. Edelstein muttered something about his wife not being careful, but she just laughed at him. Unlike her husband, Mrs. Edelstein didn't worry about hurting herself or straining herself. She believed that was the only way a person improved.

Food was different from what we were used to eating. It was a large turkey stuffed with delicious apple and bread stuffing. My brother and I have never eaten turkey, even on Thanksgiving because it wasn't a part of the Italian cooking our parents knew. There were chopped potatos seasoned with garlic, parsley, and other spices. Even though I am normally not (both then and now) a fan of potatos, the chopped ones Elizaveta made were great. A light salad with lettuce, asparagus, carrots, and other green delights, but the best part was the home made dressing that Elizaveta put a dash of in it. Then for dessert there was blueberry pie of Roderich's creation. It wasn't until I was older that I learned he was a pastry and dessert chef before he became a CEO, though I didn't really care who made what at the time since it all looked delicious.

My brother and I were silent while eating. The adults, however, were chatting; it was probably about business, shopping, and other things. I didn't really care until they talked about Antonio's single status.

"I know you're still young, but... really! Why haven't you gotten married?" Elizaveta asked. She laughed, talking about how she wasn't even the marrying type. It was odd of her to describe herself as such, because her husband was right there.

"Well, you and Roderich were lucky that you found someone you wanted to marry so quickly. I mean, you guys got married as soon as you got out of high school," the Spaniard said, trying to defend himself.

"That may be true, but Lily and I have been married for two years now," Vash replied before taking a bit of blueberry pie.

"Getting married at twenty-three is still young," Lily said, not wanting to join in on attacking Antonio.

"Thank you, Lily," my father blushed, happy that someone of the four was not going to press him on the issue.

"But really, even though you aren't worried _now_ about marraige, you will eventually. Once you hit thirty or forty, it will hit you," Roderich said, finishing his pie.

"Well, I don't think I will be single at forty, but I just haven't found the right person for me!" He then looked at me. "Maybe I'll marry _hijo_ here. He is certainly cute enough!"

I blushed when he hugged me and nuzzled his head against my hair. I squirmed; the electricity was still there, but it was mixed with a well known feeling... embarrassment. Everyone laughed, except for Feli. My brother had started to cry a little, actually. Roderich got up from his seat and picked up Feliciano, asking him what was wrong.

"If big brother is married to Antonio, who do I marry?"

There was a silence before everyone started to laugh at my cute brother.

"You don't get married to someone who is your brother or mother. You have to find someone out of your family to get married to. I could never marry Lovino," Antonio replied when the laughter died down.

Even though I wasn't entirely certain if I loved Antonio then, I felt hurt by that. I hid my disappointment though, and just snorted.

"Oh," Feli said. Dinner continued as normal. It was odd how the transition seemed so smooth, but I won't complain. After all, later on our lives became more complicated...

End

**Reviews are definitely welcome! I hoped everyone liked it so far.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay! I am not dead! I am sorry to those who reviewed and were waiting for a second chapter. I've had some family drama, work, moving into a new apartment, and a whole bunch of other things in real life that have been getting in the way. Also, my editor is no longer able to help me due to her being so busy as well, so the magic that she usually brings to the story will no longer be there... SIGH.**

**This chapter is shorter than the first one, but the story will pick up in plot and everything in the next chapters.**

Chapter 2

For two years Feli and I had lived with our adopted families. During that time, we've been able to establish a routine in order to spend as much time together as possible. As soon as we woke up, both of us would take a shower before Feliciano, with his backpack in tow, walked across the hall to Antonio's condo. I would place a baguette into the oven and pour olive oil and balsamic vinegar onto a plate for us to share. Once the baguette was done I would cut slices into it so that we could dip it into the oil and vinegar mixture. There wasn't a lot of conversation during breakfast, my little brother was still too tired to be very interactive. It didn't bother me, for I enjoyed his presence alone. Sometimes he would talk about trying to convince his father to get him a puppy, but I knew that Mr. Edelstein would never allow that. Feli's puppy eyes were hard to resist, but Mr. Edelstein knew that my little brother did not have the responsibility to take care of an animal.

Once we were both full or it was 8:10am, I would put the dishes away and get my backpack. Antonio, in his embarrassing black pajamas with tomatoes embroidered in them (he never had to wake up early for his job), would wake up and walk us from the condo to the limousine. I never understood why he felt the need to do so, but I guess it was just the over protectiveness of a father of young children.

The chaffeur, an elder gentleman whose family had served Mr. Edelstein's family for several generations, would drive us to school, which started promptly at 8:45am.

Our school was Morwood, a private school that led to almost 95 percent of their students going to a four year college. The building was a large, older looking building to give it the atmosphere of an older and more traditional school, but it was only fourty years old. It stood out in the modern buildings of New York city, not only because of its architecture, but because of its large amount of land behind the building that seperated from the others. The large space in the back was to allow younger students to play outside and also for any class activities that needed to be outside, usually middle school or high school science classes.

The school had grades from kindergarten to senior year of high school, but no matter what age, everyone had the same uniform. Boys had white button-up shirts with trim at the ends that were different colors, depending what grade the person was in. Since I was in third grade, I had red stitching, while Feli was in first grade with gray stitching. The only other part of the uniform required were simple black trousers or knee-length shorts during the warmer months. Girls wore white button-up shirts with different colored trims according to grade as well, except these shirts were tailored toward a woman's figure by making a seam to curve slightly in at the waist. They could wear bottoms similar to the men options or wear a black knee-length skirt.

Nobody seemed to care about their looks in Morwood though. The school was designed so that students had their learning accelerated in comparison to normal public schools, to the point that many students were too busy with studying to care about their appearance. I remember I was too busy with studying to care anyways.

My first class was science with Mr. Yao Wang, a nice man truthfully. The subject of his class was so easy for me to grasp that I never listened to his lectures, even though I did like speaking to him. I read ahead and was always at least two chapters past his lesson plans. My knowledge of his subject is probably the reason why the Chinese man favored me among all the students, even if I fell asleep once or twice a week in class. During lunch time, I would even take turns sitting with him and my math teacher or my friends. We would talk about newest scientific theories, point out their flaws and the true plausibility of them. I remember where we talked about a ridiculous theory he heard about...

"I read in a newspaper recently that they believe with mathematics to provide evidence, that blackholes lead to parallel universes." I snorted at the thought, answering Mr. Wang's newest information with a murmured "Sounds like something my idiot brother Feli would say, and he knows squat when it comes to science." My teacher would laugh at me, patting me on the shoulder with pride.

"Why is that Lovino, aru?"

"Blackholes have a gravity so powerful that it will literally strip the individual atoms apart from any unlucky thing that happened to get too close. Light, the fastest moving thing in the world cannot escape the gravitational pull of a blackhole unless this blackhole was less than a meter in diameter. If this theory was correct and it did lead one to another universe, one would have to show where they would come out because blackholes aren't known to spew out atoms. With all this assumed, whatever came into the blackhole and out through this new structure, I'm pretty sure that it would be different from the way it came in thanks to the blackhole," I explained. My science teacher would hug me, gushing in Chinese probably of how impressed he was of me. The vain part of my personality would make me smirk...

"Oi! Lovino, are you paying attention?" his voice snapped. I returned from my memory and looked up at him.

"Do you know the answer to the question?" I glanced at the board and said "The mass would be 16.81 kilograms Mr. Wang."

He smiled and returned his attention to the class to explain how I got that answer.

My second class with my math teacher was almost the same kind of relationship. She was a petite Filipino woman named Imelda Mauricio. She was handing out our last tests. My test was a perfect score, which was why I was rewarded with a small bag of candy. Ms. Mauricio gave me an extra pat on the shoulder and continued to hand out tests.

I heard the boy in front of me, Alfred, sigh. He was a friend of my brother's even though he was the same age as I was. I was friends with his slightly older, quieter twin Matthew, who sat on the other side of the room. I was concerned to why he seemed sad and I leaned a little to see he had gotten 83 percent. It wasn't a bad score, it was just low for Morwood's standards. He looked over his shoulder to see me looking at the paper and blushed. He was probably embarrassed.

I tried to comfort him. "Don't worry Alfred, I'm not doing so well in History." It was true, my grade was slowly getting closer to the low eighties. He perked up.

"Really? I'm doing as well in History as you are in Math. I'm surprised," I blushed but ignored the blow to my intelligence and gave the proposal "Well, than maybe during study hall time we can help each other."

"Well alright, thanks!" he said and class continued as normal.

English class, my class after math, definitely was not easy for me. It wasn't that I did terribly, it was that I didn't like my teacher. My teacher was Arthur Kirkland who did not appreciate my unattentiveness and would not let me go unpunished unlike my first two teachers. My stupidity would sometimes take over me during his class and I would refer to him as "Caterpillar brows" instead of Mr. Kirkland. These comments in the beginning of my school career led to me getting lunch detentions with any teacher available. When Mr. Wang seemed to be free every single time the English man probably thought it was better to scold me in class than reward me with time with my favorite teacher.

I behaved today, which led to quiet class time. It was because I learned Mr. Kirkland would argue with my art teacher Francis Bonnefoy, which was fine, until they started to act civil for those few minutes after they fight. In those minutes, they would somehow stray from the weather to my disrespect for Mr. Kirkland's authority in class. Since Francis Bonnefoy was friends with my father, my father would find out eventually and scold me. I would find an opportunity to insult the English teacher some other time, maybe when Antonio was on a business trip.

Lunch was right after Mr. Kirkland's class, but instead of eating lunch with our diverse group of friends, Feli asked to have lunch alone with me outside. I agreed because I knew somethings must be troubling Feli for him to want to be away from friends. We quickly grabbed our lunches from the nice kitchen staff and snuck out the back door. We walked to the top of the hill that was behind Morwood's greenhouse for Plant Science, and placed our lunches down.

Feli unwrapped foil around his sandwich and took a small bite. I grabbed my fork and picked at my chicken salad. Feliciano understood that I knew that he wasn't feeling well and stopped eating. There was a silence between us. Not like the early morning, but a dense, awkward silence.

"My mom and dad are having problems," he blurted out.

"Like what?" I asked. I took his left hand in my right, rubbing the palm gently with my thumb.

"Mom is sad because dad can't get it up." I was confused.

"What does she mean? A shelf or something?" Feli shook his head. He didn't know what they were talking about either.

"I'm worried Lovi. Is there something wrong with me?" I shook my head this time. "Why would you think that?"

"Because our old mom and dad didn't like each other once they had me. Now the Edelsteins are not getting along..." a small tear fell onto his pants. I let go of our hands so that I could wrap my arm around his waist. He shortly stopped, sniffling a little. I took my napkin and offered it to him as a tissue. Our fingertips brushed together as he retrieved it from me and blew his nose into the fabric. Once he was done the napkin and put it on an empty spot on his tray.

"Feli, if it was because of you, they would be mad at you. They're mad at each other though. It is not because of you," he sighed and smiled a little. "Thank you Lovino."

My brother didn't know the problem in the Edelstein home was that Mr. Edelstein was impotent. Mrs. Edelstein was trying to get pregnant because she wanted a child of her own, but Roderich's erectile dysfuction was making that near impossible. There was the option of in vitro fertilization, but Mrs. Edelstein didn't believe in making children that way. As time grew, Elizaveta's self esteem started to deflate. She tried her hardest to appear more attractive than she already was. She went to the salon to get extensions, put on make-up, dressed in more revealing clothing, and even tried to act more feminine by denying herself of sports; it was all to make herself more desirable to her husband.

Every night seemed like a routine though. Once she tucked Feliciano into bed, she would prepare dessert for Roderich and herself. They would sit together on the couch, the Edelsteins playfully feeding each other the dessert. It would seem like good progress, for soon the dessert would be left on the table and they would passionately kiss. The one kiss, led to several more. Both warm, soft lips would continue to press against each other. Mr. Edelstein would slide his left arm around Elizaveta's waist, trying to bring her closer. She would move, pressing their warm bodies together. Her thigh would softly rub Mr. Edelstein's groin and notice that he was getting excited. Their hearts were both pounding, they were close, just as they always were. Roderich would swoop her into his arms, carrying her to their bedroom and lay her gently onto the bed.

He would get on top of her, crushing their lips together again. His hands slipping under the straps of Elizaveta's dress, and gliding them off her thin limbs. As soon as that happened though, that was the end. He broke their kiss slowly, and to their dismay, there was no need to continue. Mr. Edelstein was no longer in the mood.

Feli was not stupid. When he woke up in the morning, he noticed the sadness in his mother's eyes. Mr. Edelstein's back no longer in proper posture, even as he played songs on the piano. His father's fingertips barely touched the piano, making the music just above a whisper. The fact the music could be heard showed how dull and empty the house had gotten...

"Feli! Don't cry..." I said, bringing him back to reality.

"I'm sorry Lovi, I'm sorry," and tried to wipe his fleeting tears. I heard the bell ring.

"Shit, sorry Feliciano. Come on, why don't you go to the nurse's office? You can take a small nap before going to class." He nodded in agreement and we grabbed our trays and raced down the hill. We disposed of our food into the garbage can and put our trays away. I walked Feli to the nurse's office, making up an excuse that he had a horrible stomach ache. Once I saw that he was able to rest on a soft, dark blue cot, I ran through the halls to get to art class. It was frowned upon to run in the halls, but my Art teacher never liked me. Probably because I didn't have the talent needed to do very well in his class.

I drowned out Mr. Bonnefoy's voice as I worried over my brother. It wasn't hard to make Feli cry, but it was hard to make him cry a second time so quickly though. My worrying made time speed up and soon art class was over and I had history with Mr. Heracles Karpusi.

His class, no matter what occupied my mind seemed to run at a slow pace. His calm movements made him appear in slow motion to my eyes sometimes. It was hard to believe that he would later get fired (but never faced trial) for having a supposed sexual relationship with my friend Kiku, a quiet Japanese boy. Kiku always denied that anything between them happened sexually and that he only visited our teacher's house to play with his cats, but I couldn't help but notice how sad he looked when Mr. Karpusi was fired. He had even commented that he missed looking into the other man's "forest green eyes of wisdom and tranquility" but he still denied anything, even when he eventually started dating Heracles when he was eighteen.

When the bell rang again, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Alfred, his brother Matthew right behind him.

"Come on, you said we'd help each other out during study hall. Lets go to our usual table!" I nodded and all three of us walked to our study hall area.

This area was connected to the library. Unlike the classrooms on the first floor that had another floor of classrooms above it, the study hall had a high ceiling that light the room with natural light. Mostly round tables with six chairs surrounding them filled the room, with decorative floral lamps in the center in case the natural lighting was not enough. The study hall was the most silent room in the school, but it was the most busy. There were mostly older students weaving in and out from the library area and this room. Any sounds in the room were talks about big tests coming up and the scribbling of pencils or pens.

"Hey! The others are waiting for us! Come on!"

"Al, don't be so loud. We're in study hall..." but Matthew's quiet voice was ignored. It would continue to be that way until he could a spot on the varsity hockey team in ninth grade.

The others that Alfred mentioned were Feli's friends and my friends as well. There was Kiku Honda, a Japanese boy that I used to have a crush on two years ago when we were six. He would grow to have a closer friendship with my brother, but I can still remember our awkward lunch hours spent together. I would get transfixed by his eyelashes. They were dark, and fluttered gracefully like a fan when he blinked. They were so long that they seemed to touch his feminine cheekbones. His lashes were something that every girl tried to get from mascara. He would break my daze by asking me if something was wrong and I always blushed and said nothing was wrong. He would continue to eat while I stared at him sometime later in the hour.

Next to Kiku were his two younger brothers, Soo and Kaoru. Soo's personality was similar to Feli's, probably because they were the same age. He was hyper and ran around tagging or poking people at random times. He had even scared Mr. Wang by grabbing his chest and yelling that his breasts were property of Soo. It had caused the science teacher to definitely not like the six year old, even as Soo was in high school. Kaoru was a year younger than Soo, but acted in a mature manner. He was the only kindergartener of the group this year, making him the youngest, but he would join my part of the table to read quietly because that was his personality. He was a model little gentleman, and I would grow to be good friends with him later on in life.

The three brothers also had a sister named Mei, who was only a year younger than Kiku and I. It was always easy to spot her because she always had fresh pink flowers in her hair, even during the winter. She was a pleasant girl, the only time I ever fought with her was when we debated about Mr. Wang. She, Kiku, and Kaoru would always gang up on me about how he was a bad teacher, but I never let it get to me.

Next to her was Peter, Matthew and Alfred's younger brother. He was best friends with Feli and Soo, and carried a robot action figure around with him. He would sometimes playfully attack people with the action figure's "robot punch" but nobody seemed to care because he was adorable. He even got along with the boy nicknamed Ice in our group.

Ice earned his nickname because of his platinum blonde hair and for his lack of talking. Ice's real name is Fjalar Stefánsson, and he had an older brother named Norge. Norge and Ice shared many of the same features, but Norge's eyes were a striking light blue instead of a soft lavender. I was good friends with Norge, probably because the situation with our brothers was similar. We were both the older children and took care of our younger brothers as best as we could. He would sometimes visit Antonio's condo and we would talk about the books we've read recently. The most important thing about our relationship though, was silence. Silence was rare to find in our group of friends for many of them were athletic and loud in nature.

I was not Norge's best friend though, Mathias was. Mathias was a bit of a rebel, even at our age. He carried a vareity weapons in his backpack, and with the help of Alfred, Soo, and Norge, pull pranks on random people. It was hard to believe that he came from a conservative Danish family, considering his choices later in life. He was intelligent and things eventually worked out in his favor in the end, but we will not divulge into his life.

In the present, the most rebellious thing Mathias did other than bring weapons to show off to us, was wear a black hat when teachers weren't looking and combat boots to match the hat.

They were the only people waiting for us, quite surprising since there were still seven people missing including my brother. I sat down next to Norge, whispering a soft "hi" before opening my bag for my math textbook. Alfred sat next to my left and Matthew sat to his left.

"Now, we're studying the history of our great country, the U-S of A. What do you want to know from 1776 and before?"

I sighed. "Everything, I can't stay awake in Mr. Karpusi's class. I don't know anything other than the obvious. I don't need to know stuff like, the Boston Tea Party, Declaration of Independence, etc..."

Matthew poked his head from behind Alfred, saying "I never knew you had trouble in history class."

"I usually do get 95 percent, but lately, my scores have been in the eighties. It's really affecting my grade, even with my perfect homework and behavior scores."

Mathew smiled, "Well, at least now you have the history whiz to help you." His comment made Alfred smile.

"Alright, lets get to studying!" his loud outburst led to most of us shushing him, making him blush and apologize softly.

Everything was quiet again in the study hall. I was reading Alfred's little study sheet that he made for himself to look at before tests. It was very useful. As I have discussed before, my passion was science and math, not old stories. I was distracted from my studying however when I felt two hands on my shoulders.

"Hey Feli, you feel better?" I whispered.

He gasped. "How did you know it was me?"

"Feli, I know you too well. You can take the free seat next to Peter." Feli walked over to the seat I suggested and started writing something. It was a note that he then gave to Peter, who wrote him back. Feli was naturally intelligent in most subjects, except science, so he never really needed to study, and if he needed to, he did it at home with me. This study group session was really for him to spend time with all his friends.

Study hall ended quickier that day. Everyone gathered their things and rushed to their last class. My last class of the day was music. My teacher was a strange man, who wore a white mask over his face. Sadiq Adnan was a nice man even though he made Antonio and I feel unease. It was probably the mysterious mask he wore over his face when he worked, or the fact that he seemed to have an intense relationship with Mr. Karpusi. At least it didn't get in the way of his abilities as a teacher. Mr. Adnan has a vast knowledge of many instruments, which was why he was the teacher of all three music classes, orchestra, band, and choir.

I was part of the orchestra, because I liked the cello. The deep sounds of the G string were soothing to my ears.

My friend Matthew was also a cello player and shared a music stand with me. As we prepped our instruments and bows, we would talk about videogames and food. It was easier to believe he was Alfred's brother during music class. I don't know if it is because he felt comfortable in music class or he just communicated better in one on one conversations, but he seemed much more open.

He was a much better musician than I. His violet eyes barely looked at the music, he felt it with his graceful hands. Rosen that he had just put onto his bow escaped into the air when the tempo of the music sped up. Everything he did seemed effortless. The way his hands danced on the board of the cello, it seemed at if he could play forever.

When he finished practicing, I clapped softly. The wavy haired boy blushed at my reaction.

"Um... thank you Lovino."

"Don't thank me Matthew. You are amazing." He blushed a deeper red at my reply.

I noticed in life that children seem to have many crushes on their friends multiple times during their life. Matthew was one of them, but it was hard for a child like me to resist his soft blonde hair, his quiet demeanor, and soft, breathy voice. How odd that I would choose someone who was almost his opposite to spend the rest of my life with.

I wished to hear more but the final bell rang. I packed my instrument and put it in my assigned locker. Matthew grabbed my shoulder and we had matching smirks. We raced from the music room to the front door, trying to see who would win today. His ability to be unnoticed allowed him to weave between clumps of people while I struggled to go around them. I had the advantage in being able to run faster than Matthew, so we were constantly outdoing one another. People gasped, dropping their books and other items around them from the shock of our rapid movement. We didn't care, the door was our only goal. The front door visible, but a large crowd got in my way when I was only eight feet away from my goal. He narrowly won that day.

Our brothers were there, waiting for us. Alfred hugging his brother in pride for his win, and my brother hugged me just because he was happy to see me.

Our driver was there, waiting for us in the limo. I would open the door for Feliciano and follow in after him. It was just another school day in our lives.

I can't remember the date, it wasn't important to me, but I knew it was some time in February. A new family moved in, it was Feli's future husband and Mr. Edelstein's future husband Gilbert. When I was casually walking across the hall to go to the Edelsteins condo when I saw a strange man ordering two movers where to place boxes. He was strange to me because he didn't have color in his skin or his hair, but had sparkling rubies for eyes. The older man only wore a dark green T-shirt with light colored jeans with rips at the knees. It was hard to believe that someone that dressed so casually and was not a child was living in these condos. He waved to me and asked me if I wanted to meet his younger brother. Before I could respond, he turned to the doorway of the condominium.

"Ludwig! Ludwig!" he called out into the condominium before I could respond. A boy slightly taller than myself appeared quickly. His hair was blonde, the color of daffodils. The color of his eyes contrasted his brother's for they were an ice blue. He was the same age as I was, but he had muscles of elder boys. I was intimidated by him because he appeared a strong person and his expression didn't have as much emotion as the albino.

"Hello?" the boy said. I just snorted and opened the door to the Edelsteins and ignored them. Unfortunately I couldn't do these same actions at school.

He was second best to me in math and science, but in all of his other classes I knew he was ranked number one. Ludwig Beilschmidt was bright, quiet, and the opposite quality that he had and I didn't, was discipline. He was a teacher's dream, and I hated his guts for it.

It was more annoying having to share Feli with him. The two were polar opposites, but yet that little German perfectionist became my brother's best friend. Whenever that German bastard and I were in the same room, Feliciano would always acknowledge him first. It was one of the most frustrating things that I experienced in my short life. I was the one who took care of Feli, listened to him, helped him with any problem he faced, and I was being replaced.

There was another incident that upset me about my little brother and Ludwig.

It was Barbados, apparently Gilbert owned a resort next to the beach that was very successful there and invited us and our families. Matthew, Kiku, Alfred, Ludwig, Feliciano, and I were at the beach during summer break. The heat of the scorching sun was beating on the sand and our little bodies. At first, we didn't care as long as we played in the cooling waves. We ran around in the shallow part, slapping the water's surface and spraying it into each other's faces. Matthew and Kiku shyed away once the fight got really aggressive. I eventually pulled Feliciano to the side once he took in too much sea water and started coughing.

Ludwig and Alfred, both being competitive in nature, continued. Ludwig with his serious concentration, and Alfred, his eyes closed and his bright smile beaming.

Time past by, and soon the water that slicked and cooled our skins attracted more of the burning sensation of the sun. The water wasn't enough anymore and Matthew pointed out that there was an ice cream stand near by. Children, no matter how rich or poor they are, love ice cream, and everyone raced toward the small stand.

Ludwig ordered two scoops with his ice cream, which I found odd because he did not have an appetite as large as Alfred's and he didn't share his ice cream like I did with Feli. As I was about to order, Feliciano put a hand on my shoulder and said to only get one scoop.

"Aren't you going to have any?"

"Yeah... but I'll be sharing with Ludwig, that's why he ordered two."

I couldn't close my mouth. My jaw seemed fixed in place.

"Lovino?" He tried to hug me but I pushed him away. He fell down into the sand. He looked up at me with a confused expression on his face and I ran away to the hotel where our families were staying at. I slid my keycard into the slot and opened the door. My pillow was immediately stained with tears, and would stay that way for the rest of the afternoon.

I had already knew he was slowly replacing me, but that simple act of sharing ice cream made it final. He replaced me with a German bastard who stronger, almost as smart, and more patient than me. I tried to hold back as much of my emotions, but I couldn't hold it back. I fell asleep from exhaustion, and I didn't wake up until 7:30pm, when Antonio shook me awake so that I could eat dinner. The Spanish man knew that I was upset, but would wait to talk to me about my behavior.

It became even worse when the Edelsteins admitted to liking the blonde boy while they were eating dinner. Roderich would point out how well mannered he was while Elizabeth complimented on his "empressive strength and athleticism at such a young age." The only one who was upset with the German boy was me. I couldn't help it though, Feli was my brother and I wanted to be his protector and provider. Did Ludwig ever hug Feli while he slept? Did the other boy ever comfort my brother when the little boy was sad?

I didn't want to compete with this new person nor did I feel that I should have to.

Vacation went by quickly, for I was in my room most of the time watching television. Antonio didn't really enjoy my childish antics, but he tolerated it. There were nights that he would stay up late with me, laughing at the cartoon antics along with me.

"Lovi, I know you don't like to share, but you must learn sometime hijo."

"... I don't want to share my family."

"You share me with the Edelsteins."

"But you're not my real family." I snapped. The elder man sighed, probably hurt a little by harsh comment, but held me to comfort me.

"True, but I love you as I would my real son. Please Lovino, you must learn to share. Not only for youself, but for Feli as well. If being around certain people makes him happy, you must to it to make him happy."

I sighed. I knew he was right, but I still didn't like the idea. The idea of making Feli happy though outweighed my dislike. The last day of our vacation as a group, I went into the breakfast area to eat with everyone instead of my room. I was glad that Feli was sitting next to me, even though he wanted to sit next to Ludwig. There would be more upsets about the two boys wanting to be with each other, but I would learn to tolerate Ludwig.

After the group vacation to the beach, my little brother's parents had tried to make a child again. The routine was tearing them apart emotionally, as well as physically. It was hard on them, yet both kept trying.

The routine for Feli's parents failure attempts to have a child was broken two weeks later. It was after we were picked up from school and I hung out for dinner with the Edelsteins that I heard Elizaveta excusing Mr. Edelstein to have fun with Mr. Zwingli. Elizaveta said that fogs didn't bring a romantic mood. Roderich and Vash took her offer and decided to go to their favorite bar that was a couple blocks from Mr. Zwingli's house. They agreed to meet each other there at 9pm. The bar was a small place called Margos, that had a sophisticated atmosphere. The dark, rich colors seemed even more alluring with only candles all around the bar lighting the place. Mr. Zwingli, sat at an empty bar stool, sipping the beer he had just purchased. He came ten minutes earlier than the agreed time, but that was just the way he was. Mr. Edelstein appeared just in time and ordered himself a drink before sitting in the stool next to Vash's. They sat at the stools together, Mr. Zwingli greeting Feliciano's father with a small smile.

"How has business been for you Roderich?"

The brunette shrugged his shoulders. "Good as always. How about for youself?"

Vash replied with a quick "Nothing out of the ordinary" and took a sip. The two men never really talked during these outtings with each other. It was not in their personality to speak very often. Many wouldn't believe that they have been friends since childhood with the fact that they didn't converse, but they didn't need to with one another. They had bonded so closely that they didn't need words. I had that same relationship with Feli, but I never knew that was possible between two people who weren't blood relatives. It is perhaps a testament to their close bond.

They both could feel that the air was thick between them. This tension was unusual for their relationship.

"I do not wish to be rude, but-"

"I know what you are going to ask and the answer is yes." Roderich said quickly. Vash winced at the harsh reaction but said nothing. When he noticed the angry grip Roderich had on his beer, he got enough courage to say something.

"I am sorry that you are having marital problems-"

"Is that what they call it?" Vash was confused by his friend's outburst. He leaned over to whisper to Roderich "You and Elizaveta have been fighting, yes? Am I not correct?"

Roderich sighed. "You do not know why we are fighting, do you?"

Vash shook his head.

"I can no longer perform my duties as a man for my wife." Mr. Edelstein plainly admitted. His blonde friend did not understand due to the wording until he thought it through several times in his head. Vash blushed instinctively, but put it aside when he saw the distress in his friend's face. He clapped Roderich on the back, but Roderich only drank more of his drink in response.

When he was done, he muttered an "I do not need pity" and took another gulp.

Mr. Zwingli tried to cheer up Mr. Edelstein by suggesting that they just drink and forget about the subject for tonight. Feliciano's father nodded and switched to drinking his favorite red wine at Margos. There were more drinks, and the topic changed to more casual things. Soon the time got away from them and it was midnight.

"Do you mind if I stay over at your place?" Roderich asked, not wanting to go home in the state he was in.

"Yes, of course Roderich." They both arrived to the bar by their drivers, and decided that a cab would work better because it was late. Once they had ridden the short ride to the Zwinglis' building, Vash quickly exited the cab. Roderich was a little slower due to having more drinks.

"Roderich, are you alright?"

"Do you think we were meant to be? Elizaveta and I?"

Vash sighed. "I don't know, that is not for me to intrude. I have not been married as long as you have, and never had to think about that for my marraige. You and Elizaveta must find that out on your own." The Swiss man opened the door to his building and pointed at the elevator waiting. Mr. Edelstein entered, still thinking to himself.

END

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